


Devil in Sheep's Clothing

by HappilyInhuman, RigorMorton



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Arkham Asylum, Conflict Resolution, Deception, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Making Love, Older Man/Younger Man, Pining, Virgin Jerome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:50:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5806873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappilyInhuman/pseuds/HappilyInhuman, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RigorMorton/pseuds/RigorMorton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jerome Valeska knows he's not who Jim Gordon initially thought he was - but he isn't going to let that stop him from getting what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jim turned over and yawned in his bed, tired, yet restless, in the darkness of his bedroom.

 

His eyes were crusted with dust, and so he shielded them as he turned over to click his bedside light on. The detective moved to his window and cracked it to get a breeze, before sitting back on his bed and rubbing the back of his neck. He just couldn’t believe how tired he was - couldn’t believe it was possible to feel so tired and yet be unable to fall asleep.

 

Being a Gotham detective had its ups and downs, but he almost never had a peaceful sleep - because even when sleep took him, he couldn't stop the unwanted content in his dreams.

 

He tried to massage his temple, feeling only a minimal amount of stress leave his body as he did. "Fuck..." He groaned, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it across the room, _Is it just me or is it hot in here?_

 

He flopped himself onto his mattress but didn't pull his sheets over himself, just laying there with the light on.

 

He couldn't stop thinking about-

 

His phone rang then, interrupting the thought before he could finish it.

 

His brain immediately jumped to a certain ex-MANIAX member, but he shook the silly thought from his head. It wasn't as though every time he turned around he expected to see Jerome or something...no, it wasn't that every time his phone rang he thought it was somehow Jerome. He swore, that no, he didn't look over his shoulder, fearing - but knowing he was truly hoping for - the flame haired maniac. He tried to tell himself that his nightmares were nightmares of violence...

 

But he knew the truth.

 

He couldn't call them nightmares so much anymore as he could call them heated, wet dreams. And the teenager's slim porcelain body, encasing his cock so nice and tight, was almost always the main attraction.

 

The only reason he still called them nightmares was because he had considered them unwelcome.

 

He told himself to calm down - it wasn't as though Jerome could be calling him. Still...who on Earth was calling so late? He sighed, taking up the receiver before turning it on. "Hello?"

 

A wide grin made its way across the maniacal ginger’s face when he heard his detective’s voice. It seemed like it had been so long since he’d heard it. It had really only been about a month, but that was far too long for the teen to go without so much as seeing or hearing his first crush - the only person that had made Jerome feel any real emotion in years.

 

Considering the boy’s up bringing, and his footloose mother’s wild ways, sex was usually the farthest thing from Jerome’s mind. He always thought he’d be forever alone, and at the time, he was fine with that. Of course, this was all before he met that handsome dreamboat, Jim Gordon.

 

The instant he opened his trailer door, and saw the stunning blonde standing there, looking smug and tough, Jerome felt his breath hitch and his heart start to race. Eighteen years old, and had never looked at anyone that way. It was quite a revelation. He’d never felt so confused. Almost as if his body had been lying to him this entire time.

 

The kid had not been able to get the dreamy older man out of his head since. The two had shared a moment and it was _not_ one sided. Jerome would make sure to remind Jim of this, when attempting to convince him of a few favors.

 

Jerome let out a long, satisfied sigh, before replying to the curious question on the other end. “Hi handsome. Long time no talk. Did ya miss me?”

 

Jim felt like he had choked on air when he heard the maniac's beautiful tenor voice ring from the other end. He gulped, eyes boring holes into the ceiling as he lay with the phone pressed to his ear.

 

For a moment he didn't know how to respond.

 

He'd imagined scenarios like this before, imagined what he might say - thought of how to resist. It was different to be thrust suddenly into the situation, to be directly on the line with the redhead he secretly wanted in his bed. He had no idea how on Earth to keep hiding such a passionate, ever present desire. His yearning for Jerome went against everything he stood for, but it had a mind of its own.

 

"Jerome..." He tries to think of something to say - something irrelevant to his _true_ anxieties about the phone call. "I worry what you must have done for someone to get a cellphone." _Too sexual_ , he realises he failed to pick a non-sexual topic. He practically just asked Jerome if he prostituted himself in Arkham to get the phone.

 

_Smooth move, Jim._ He thinks to himself.

 

Jerome paused for a moment before belting out that famous cackle of his - the laugh echoing down the asylum hall. “Oh, no, Jimbo. Nothing like that. I wouldn't….I couldn’t. However I am flattered the idea of someone else touching me concerns you - but, no… I’m saving myself. I only have eyes for one person. A certain GCPD detective. He’s strong and handsome. Ya know, your stereotypical dreamboat - blonde, blue eyed….one of the good guys. Maybe you’ve met him?” The teen releases another laugh, feeling highly amused with his own antics. “Anyhoo, as much as I love the sound of your voice, that’s not the only reason that I called.”

 

Jerome let out a sigh, slouching back in his chair with his feet propped up on the desk. “You see, Jimmy, I’d like a favor from you. I thought maybe considering our brief, but certainly... _pleasant_ history, you may be willing to do me these favors, ya know for old time sake. I’ve rattled on long enough. I’ll get to the point. It’s awful lonely in here Jimmy, and was hoping you’d be so kind as to pay your old pal a visit?”

 

For a moment the blond was silent, staring at the ceiling before screwing his eyes shut in frustration. The detective knew that if he were to say no, the troublesome teenage boy would only continue to harass him. The redhead had basically just told Jim he wanted the older man to be the one to deflower him, so the kid would be determined _as all hell_ to get the man to visit him. He was sure that Jerome wouldn't take no for an answer, and that if the kid had a phone he would make what was already a ridiculously hectic life even more like hell.

 

He sighed, opening his eyes in an expression of complete annoyance.

 

He had wanted to do damage control. Deal with his horrid desires, and try to keep the maniac as far away from himself as he could. He'd wanted to try to forget about him, and bury his feelings about their encounter before he lost control of his own impulses.

 

He was starting to see now, that that might not be an option.

 

"...If I come to see you once, will you leave me alone and not call here again?" He tried.

 

Jerome cackled loudly into the receiver and shook his head. “Oh, Jimbo that’s not nice. If I actually believed you meant that, I’d be hurt. But I think we both know, after you come to see me, the last thing you’ll want, is for me to leave you alone.” The boy chuckled again. “Ahh, you’re such a good man, Jimmy. I have to admit, it’s the thing I like most about you, which is odd. I guess opposites really do attract. Hmm… Anyway, since you’re up for that favor, I may as well throw the other two out there. Ya know, Jimbo, I’m going to be in here a long time, and it sure would be nice to have…..a souvenir? Something to remember you by? You were my first crush and kiss, after all. It sure would mean a lot Jimmy.” Jerome said in his _innocent_ voice, making puppy eyes, even though the detective couldn’t see him.

 

Jim gulped. He knew hearing Jerome say that he was his first crush and kiss gave him _far_ too satisfied a feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 

He thought over the kid's other words, wondering what on Earth the kid would be expecting him to bring him. "...A souvenir?" He asked, heart beating fast with the thought of what Jerome would do with such a thing, "You're...really pushing your luck, kid." He failed to put any bite behind the sentiment, his cheeks burning and his chest feeling like it was melting into his stomach with nerves. "You deserve to get nothing." He tried to insult him, half-heartedly.

 

He realised, though, with a start, that _the kid was right._ He'd be spending a long, _long_ time in Arkham...and so even if Jim _wanted_ to give in to his urges and fuck the boy senseless... he'd never be able to. He sighed. There was no... real... _harm_ in indulging Jerome in this little game then, was there? Not when the teen was safely locked away where Jim could never get to him, right?

 

"What do you want?"

 

Jerome sat up quickly, his lips curling up into a smirk. “Well, first of all, a picture would be nice. Particularly one of you in your dress blues. I never got to see you in them, and sadly probably never will. That would just….” Jerome sighed and clutched his heart. “Mean so much to me, Jimmy. Now, the other thing is…..well, a _little_ unconventional…. A pair of your boxers? I want a _worn_ pair….with your scent on them. What do ya say, Jimbo? For old time’s sake?”

 

The older man saw bringing Jerome the picture as no big deal...but boxers were far more intimate an item. Jim massaged the bridge of his nose before reminding himself that he had no need to stress over how bad a thing he'd be doing if he agreed. He just needed to calm his frustration and remember that Arkham should continue to keep him in possession of the upper hand.

 

"Okay." He finally brought himself to say it. In the back of his head he knew where he had a few pictures of himself in his blues - glossy photos buried in a drawer under other things. "I really do feel bad that you can't let go of this-" He struggles to find the right words, "-little thing...This mistake. I shouldn't have let that kiss happen Jerome, I should've had more self control." He pauses, sighing, "So I'll bring you what you want." Despite his words, somewhere in the pit of his stomach, he was surprised and shocked to find that he _hoped_ Jerome would _contest_ what he said about the kiss.

 

In that moment he realised that no matter how much he outwardly fought the red headed maniac, it wouldn't matter. The part of him that refused to listen to logic - that wanted Jerome - was too strong. Despite everything it would mean for his morality, he _wanted_ the kid to win this game they were playing.

 

Jerome winced at his detective’s words. It stung. From anyone else, he wouldn’t give a damn, but from Jim Gordon - the object of the boy’s affection, it was a hard blow. He remained quiet, just letting out an elongated huff and clenching his teeth.

  
  
Before he spoke, he had to compose himself and remember that the older man didn’t mean it. If he did, he wouldn’t have agreed to visit him, nor would he bring him the things he asked for, and probably would have hung up on him, a long time ago.

  
  
Jerome leaned over the desk and let out a sigh. “I don’t believe you mean that, Jimmy. You’re a liar. If we hadn’t been interrupted by… _Leslie_ …” Jerome spoke through gritted teeth. “Then you would’ve done a lot more than kiss me, detective, and you know it. Don’t give me that bullshit that you tell yourself to help you sleep at night. You may be naive enough to believe it, but I'm not. Anyway, I don’t want to fight, baby.” The teen said with an evil grin, knowing the detective would have a reaction to being referred to by Jerome as baby. Even if he couldn’t see it, he knew it was happening.

 

Jim had to take deep breathes, unsurprised, but definitely frustrated to feel warmth pooling in the pit of his stomach. He could almost imagine the boy's full pink lips curling around each syllable - which lead to him envisioning them wrapped around something much thicker. He almost wanted to growl in anger as his body betrayed him, pants tenting slightly.

 

Those words reminded him of the exact position they’d been in when they were interrupted by Leslie. He’d had his tongue in the teen’s mouth and his hands on his ass. He regretted remembering, as it led to him thinking about Jerome's bottom - how it felt to squeeze it - and he realised he was wrong. He couldn’t stop his mind from running wild, and he imagined Jerome -  a virgin, a _male_ virgin - how tight and hot that hole would be. Jim would have fucked him. Still, the older man just couldn’t help but be a fighter.

 

“I don’t want to be a part of some silly game, Jerome.” He was pissed now, unable to forget how cocky the brat had sounded only moments ago, “I wouldn’t sleep with you...and if I did, I damn well wouldn’t be letting you orchestrate the course of events.” He huffs angrily.

 

Jerome held back a laugh, at the detective’s obvious lies. He couldn’t even feel insulted at Jim’s denial anymore. Now it was just funny. “Sure, Jimbo.” Jerome grinned wide and cleared his throat, a chuckle escaping his lips. “Whatever helps you sleep at night. Anyway, visiting hours are from two to four. You better show, Jimbo. Do you know how hard it is to negotiate a non-sexual trade in an asylum? It ain’t easy, Jimmy. I’ll see ya tomorrow. Sweet dreams baby.” The teen hung up the phone and flung himself down on his cot. He placed his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling and let out a pleased sigh. He knew his detective would show, and bring him the things he’d asked for. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

 

Jim was left staring at his ceiling, dazed for a few moments after the teenager hung up on him. He paused, finally thinking to take his phone away from his ear and hang up the empty line. He could tell that Jerome had thought everything through, and he was left simply...baffled by how _much_ the teen seemed to want him. The maniac wanted him to be his first...and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

 

The older man leant over and turned off his bedside lamp, settling back down on his bed. He closed his eyes, but knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep very well that night. In his head he was already searching through his desk for a photo. His brain already rehearsed sliding off his boxers as he changed the next morning - putting them in a bag instead of into his laundry. He was already imagining the drive to Arkham... thinking of what he’d say, trying to envision Jerome in those stripes…

 

  
It unnerved him just how excited he was by the next day’s promise of seeing Jerome Valeska.


	2. Chapter 2

Jim was gripping the steering wheel as though it was his one tether to reality - and in a way, it felt like it was. He couldn’t get his mind to focus on anything since he talked to Jerome the night before. He’d woken up from another dream of Jerome, only having gotten a few hours of rest. He’d tried to resist, but the urge had been too strong, and he’d taken care of his morning erection to thoughts of the ginger.

 

The detective looked over to his passenger seat, to the bag which sat there. He knew inside that bag were the very boxers he’d cum inside that morning - and the photo Jerome had asked for.

 

He took a deep breath as he pulled onto the driveway of Arkham Asylum, trying not to think about what he'd be giving the redhead. As he passed under the gate, he was struck by a sudden impatience. He was surprised to find himself speeding slightly up to the building, and by the time he’d parked and gotten checked in to visit Jerome, he was biting his bottom lip hard in frustration.

 

He’d come early, checking in as soon as visiting hours began. He wondered if the kid would think that was some sort of sign - he knew he probably would, and also knew he couldn’t very easily explain his eagerness away. He hadn’t felt so much anticipation for years, and he felt slightly shameful that it was due to a sociopathic teenage criminal. He was both dreading, and excited to be called in, and he began to tap one finger on the arm of his chair.

 

"Jim Gordon." Called a name, suddenly.

 

He was finally allowed into the room where the prisoners of Arkham got to see their visitors. Led in by a larger security guard, who sat him down at a small table. There was no sign of Jerome yet. He assumed that he was also about to be escorted into the room, and so he sat waiting. The door was on the opposite side of the room from his seat, and so he kept his eyes trained on it, wondering when the teenager would be led in.

 

He'd be lying if he said that his nerves weren't getting to him. He was usually so calm and in control of a situation, and he struggled to maintain that composure with Jerome at times. He knew the boy had a way of getting to him that he had yet to experience from any other person. He'd felt passionate attraction to many women. There was just...something different...something  _ stronger _ about his attraction toward the maniac. He hated to admit it.

 

He sat impatiently.

 

Jerome lay on his cot, flipping through a Rolling Stone magazine his cell mate had left behind - resting his chin on his fist, his legs giddily swinging apart and back together, excited to see his detective today. He was confident the older man would show, he just didn’t know when.

 

The boy had been trying desperately to not watch the clock today. He knew that would just make the day drag on even longer. The teen had somehow managed to keep himself busy from the moment he woke up. Not very easy in an asylum. Board games, shooting hoops, and daytime television were the extent of what he could do.

 

Now he’d finally decided to give it a rest, and soak in some current events while waiting for word of Jim’s arrival.

 

Suddenly the teen heard the buzz sound of his cell opening, watching as Gil, the guard on his cell block stepped inside. “Yo, Valeska…you got a visitor.” The tall guard signaled with his hand for Jerome to get up.

 

The boy couldn’t get off that bed fast enough. He scrambled to his feet, pulling the blankets off the cot in his frenzied excitement, running up to the man, beaming with delight. “I’m ready. Let’s go.” 

 

Gil gave the giddy teen an odd look. Jerome always had this chipper way about him, but he had never seen him quite like this. He would ask, but he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer. Not to mention he tried his best not to socialize with any of the inmates if he could avoid it. Instead he just shook his head, and lead the teen down the hall.

 

Jerome skipped behind him the entire time, smiling ear to ear. His detective had showed up right when visiting hours started. The kid knew what that meant…Jim was excited to see him. Of course he’d deny it adamantly, but Jerome would see right through it, like he always did. After all, You can’t bullshit a bullshitter.

 

Gil opened the door to the visiting room, escorting the teen inside. The redhead spotted his detective immediately, letting out a long sigh and watching the blonde tap his fingers on the desk impatiently. 

 

Oh, it had been too long since he’d laid eyes on the handsome dreamboat that was Detective Jim Gordon. The older man looked just as dreamy as he’d remembered. Jerome couldn’t help but clutch his heart and sigh at the sight of the dashing detective, causing Gil to give him an even stranger look. The guard put his hands up and walked off into the corner. Ignorance is bliss.

 

Jerome skipped happily over to Jim, almost unable to control his excitement when the older man spotted him and their eyes met. 

 

He pulled out the chair across from his detective, and plopped himself down, scooting in until his torso was uncomfortably pressed against the edge - a wide grin plastered on the boy’s face.

 

“Jimbo…” Jerome sighed. “You came.”

 

“I said I would, didn't I?" Jim asked, rhetorically. He didn't want to give the ginger too much time to try to charm him, and so he decided he'd try to get right down to business. He placed the small white cloth bag on the table in front of him. The items inside weren't heavy enough to make any real sound when he set it down, "I brought what you asked for."

 

He was expecting a guard to walk over any moment to check the contents before Jerome would be allowed to take it. He just hoped whoever came would hurry up. He knew every moment with Jerome wore him down a bit at this point.

 

Jerome frowned for a second at the older man’s dismissive tone. He should’ve seen it coming. It’s not like he expected Jim to act like a giddy school girl, but in that moment he’d have given his right arm to see the handsome blonde smile. Jim’s smile was one of Jerome’s favorite things about him. Maybe if he played his cards right, he just might get one out of his reluctant crush.

  
  
“Yes, indeed you did, Jimbo. Doesn’t necessarily mean you wouldn’t change your mind. I do like how you showed up right when visiting hours started though.” The teen grinned and widened his eyes at Jim before snatching up the bag, peeking inside.

  
  
His detective had kept his word. There at the bottom lied the older man’s folded up boxers and lying on top was a glossy photo of Jim, looking dashing as ever, standing next to another officer that looked like he’d just graduated. Must have been a friend. Jerome didn’t care to ask. His detective was smiling in the picture. He couldn’t help but reach in and pull it out to take a closer look. If he couldn’t get the older man to smile at him now, this would just have to do, and that was good enough for him. Beggers can’t be choosers.

  
  
The teen gulped, looking down at the photo. He realized, right there in that moment that he’d never owned a picture of anyone before. He just realized how strange and well...sad it was. 

  
  
Jerome was not a very emotional guy. He was pretty much numb to almost everything, but every once in a while - in a great while, something would trigger an emotion, and boy did he hate that. Life was so much easier, when you didn’t have to feel things - care about anything, or someone that is.

  
  
The kid suddenly noticed his emotions were showing. He quickly looked up, tossing the photo back in the bag, and cleared his throat. “Thank you, Jimmy.” He smiled nonchalantly. Hoping the detective didn’t catch his slip.

 

The man who'd led Jim into the room came over to check the contents of the bag to ensure there was no contraband, and the blonde frowned, keeping a close eye on the maniac sitting across from him. He had gotten a strange, sympathetic feeling in the pit of his stomach watching the kid look at that picture. He didn't like how it felt, because now even the side of him that was fighting the kid a few moments ago seemed to be mildly pacified.

 

It gave him a shock, because he did feel as though for a split second he had seen humanity on the boy's face. It was gone after a mere blink, but he'd been sure it had been there. 

 

He knew his eyes were probably playing tricks on him...but he was surprised to find how eagerly his mind surrendered itself to deciding to take his time. Even more surprised by how much he really wanted to believe Jerome Valeska could be human. There was no need to rush the visit.

 

He would take his time, talk to him, watch him carefully. Did he just get a glimpse of a sheep?

 

"Of course." He replies, treading carefully.

  
The teen noticed the older man’s confusion - noticed the man’s eyes studying him. Uh oh…his humanity’s appearance had not gone unnoticed. He still didn’t know what it was about Jim Gordon that always got him feeling sentimental. It was obviously more than just lust or attraction. Maybe it was because the detective was the first person to show him physical affection since he was a child. 

  
  
That was something Jerome had been lacking his whole life. Before he and Jim’s little make out session at the circus, he hadn’t been touched affectionately since he was hugged by a very sweet Flying Grayson named Emma when he was around ten years old. He had almost forgotten what it felt like. The older man’s strong arms wrapping around him - hands traveling down his body - lips pressed to his...had quickly reminded him. He wanted more. So much more, and he wanted it from his detective.

  
  
Unfortunately, that would not be possible at this time. He’d be locked in Arkham for the rest of his days…well, if he doesn’t escape that is. He certainly had a good enough reason to try. He’d worry about that later. Right now, he was sitting across from the object of his affection, and the way the older man was looking at him was plenty distracting.

  
  
“What?” Jerome chuckled. “Why are you looking at me like that, Jimbo? It’s creeping me out.” Of course Jerome knew why, but he had to break the awkward tension somehow.

 

Jim momentarily back-pedaled.

 

"Oh...I just...it's nothing." He tried to come up with a lie quickly. He took a deep breath, pulling out an observation he'd made when Jerome first came in: "I just realised you look thin...er." He paused, finding what he came up with only mildly satisfying to his  _ own _ ears. "I take it Arkham isn't treating you very well...but that's to be expected." He didn't know what else to say, and hoped the teen would take pity on him and accept his poor excuse.

 

Jerome squinted his eyes at the detective. He knew he was lying, but he was kind of glad. What would he have said if Jim had called him out? If he’d replied with something along the lines of 'Ah ha! I saw that.'? That would have been a lot worse. Now the boy could play it off and pretend it never happened. Although he knew that eventually his little emotional slip would be used against him.

  
  
“Yes,” He replied. “The food in here is disgusting. I’ve practically been living off of celery and carrot sticks.” Jerome sighed and leaned in closer to his detective. “When I finally bust out of this joint, one of the first things I’m doing is getting some decent grub. Well…after I pay a visit to my favorite blonde of course." The redhead gave the older man a wink.

  
  
The kid was cocky. He knew he could talk about escaping in front of Jim all damn day, and the detective wouldn’t tell a soul.

 

Jim's face fell when the kid talked about escaping, and suddenly any comfort he'd had with the situation was gone. Afterall, he'd only been able to convince himself to deal with the kid because he'd been sure the boy was well locked up. 

 

That didn't seem to be the case, he saw now.

 

Jerome was far too confident for that. He clearly knew how to escape, knew he could, maybe even already had plans.

 

He felt like all the air was sucked out of the room.

 

"What a.. _ smart _ thing to say in front of a GCPD detective, Jerome." He said, voice low - practically a frustrated growl. Jerome really knew how to get him annoyed, making him crazy with that overly confident tone. "I should report that. Would you like that?" He asked, wanting nothing more than to wipe the grin off of his face. "What on Earth makes you think you can talk like that in front of me?" He can't help the anger which seeps into his tone, wishing he could put the kid in his place.

 

Unfortunately that gives him the thought of another, more satisfying way he could put the boy in his place. The older man tries to will away the thought, face slightly flushing at the mental image.

 

Jim’s face was priceless. It took everything inside Jerome not to roll over with laughter, but he refrained, letting out a soft chuckle instead. A low, menacing, movie villain chuckle that would make the hardest of men’s blood run cold.

  
  
“Oh, Jimmy, Jimmy…” The boy shook his head, running his tongue over the front of his teeth. “Tell all you want. We both know it will only delay the  _ inevitable _ . What are they gonna do… strap me to my bed 24/7?” Jerome chuckled again. “Besides, we both know you won’t.” The kid smirked cockily.

  
  
He realized he was behaving like the psychopath everyone claimed him to be, and contrary to popular belief, the boy did not believe he was. Although it was his own fault, people believed him to be. His constant stiff upper lip mentality was certainly to blame.

  
  
Jerome leaned in closer to the older man, having another moment of weakness, and not really sure what suddenly brought it on. Then again Jim did have a way of bringing out the boy’s sentiment. “In all seriousness, Jimbo…I can’t stay in here. All these people are crazy, and I’m not crazy. I hate everyone in here. You have no idea what it’s like to literally have no one. You’d have a shitty attitude too, if you’d grown up with practically zero physical contact other than being smacked around, just to suddenly be thrown in an asylum with people that are either so nuts they think you’re the devil, or others that would just as soon kill you as look at you.”

  
  
Jerome leaned back in his chair with a huff, crossing his arms. He clenched his teeth when he realized he’d let his emotions get the best of him. He sometimes had these outbursts that were either emotionally fueled or anger driven. The kid didn’t seem to have control over them. Now he’d really done it.

 

The detective gave pause for a moment, the maniac's words ringing in his ears. He was reminded of losing his father for a short, dark moment.

 

With a gulp he realised that Jerome was right. Jim had no idea what it was like to not truly have anyone, his entire life. Jim had been lucky enough that despite losing both his parents, he'd had a few very pleasant years with them. He realised he needed to be a little more grateful he'd had those years.

 

"I'm sorry." Was all he could say.

 

Even after Jim had lost his parents, he'd never truly been alone. He'd had girlfriends, some friends...he'd had people around him. Those people also weren't violent against him, either physically or psychologically. When Jerome had someone, it was a mother who was clearly emotionally unreliable, and mistreated him. She barely counted as having someone.

 

He wondered: Were he in Jerome's shoes, would he be a violent criminal as well?

 

Jerome uncrossed his arms and sat up straight. “Oh, that’s alright, Jimbo.” The boy let out a long sigh. “I don’t blame you for being annoyed. It’s not like I’m ignorant to the fact that I’m a handful.” Jerome said with a light hearted laugh. 

  
  
He found himself pausing for a moment, just to look the older man over. Jim Gordon was just so damn dreamy. His all American boy charm was too much for even a hardened guy like Jerome Valeska to resist - just so easy to get lost in.

  
  
It took everything inside the teen not to leap over that desk and jump into the handsome detective’s lap. Tempting, but a terrible idea. Not only could it land him in solitary, but he could also lose his visiting privileges, and he would very much like his detective to visit him again. That is until he finds a way out of there. Not to mention, a move like that could earn him some unwanted attention from the other male inmates. That was a risk he was definitely not willing to take. So far he’d been lucky. He didn’t want to push it.

  
  
“You look good, Jimmy.” Jerome said, but this time with a more serious and less playful smile. If he couldn’t jump the older man, he’d at least flirt a little.

 

Jim couldn't help the small grin that broke through, no matter how much he wanted to resist letting it.

 

There was never any use denying it. He was terribly attracted to Jerome Valeska - and in some ways, could sympathise with him. The maniac's beautiful grin and wacky antics had found their way under his skin, and he had found himself wanting him even more. He  _ had _ to control it.

 

He took a deep breath and tried to get a hold of himself. He needed to stay back - for the sake of his own sanity. If he gave into the kid, it would go against everything he stood for. He just needed to remember that.

 

He found his resolve far less powerful though, after Jerome's outburst. The kid was beaten by his mother, then thrown from that abusive mother straight into another abusive environment. Arkham is no walk in the park. He felt far more understanding now, as he sat at this rickety table, under slightly flickering fluorescent bulbs, in a room with high, barred windows. This poor kid.

 

He knew he needed to be moral, to be good, to bring justice...

 

...but maybe that's why he can see good even in such a violent maniac?

 

"Thank you." He didn't know how else to reply to the redhead's flirting.

 

There it was…the one thing Jerome had been hoping to see before they parted.…his detective’s smile. The boy lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw it. It was the first time he’d seen Jim smile since the truth about his mother’s murder was revealed. The kid feared he may never see it in person again, now that Jim knew the truth. Ever since the older man found out Jerome was not so innocent, he’d looked at him differently.

  
  
Now the boy was struggling not to playfully rub it in his detective’s face by shouting, I saw that! You smiled when I said you looked good! Jerome refrained from embarrassing his crush, but seeing Jim Gordon turn red would have made his day for sure. Instead he just laughed playfully - happily instead of just menacingly like usual.

  
  
“Yo, Valeska!” Gil shouted out from the visiting room door. He lifted his arm up and tapped his watch. “Time's up.”

  
  
Jerome huffed and rolled his eyes, annoyed at the interruption. He threw his loose wrist up in a 'whatever' motion. “Anyway…thanks for coming, Jimbo. You’re my first visitor. Any chance you’d come see me again...maybe make this a weekly thing? Well…until I find a way out of here that is.” The kid wiggled his eyebrows and grinned.

 

The older man could have groaned. Now that the time had come, the unpleasant sinking feeling in his stomach protested their separation. He took a deep breath.

 

"Maybe, Jerome." He sighed, "Maybe..." He said it in a resigned tone however, one which made it clear he already knew he would be back.

 

“That’s a yes.” The boy said grinning, with his usual playful tone. “Well, I’d give you a kiss goodbye, but…that could make things a little more difficult for me in here, if ya know what I mean.” 

  
  
Before Jerome could say another word, he jumped slightly when he felt Gil’s hands come down roughly on his shoulders.

  
  
“Valeska, I told you time’s up. Let’s go.”

  
  
“Fuck off, Gil.” Jerome was a little too ballsy for his own good.

  
  
“What did you just say? Get your ass up, boy.” Gil reached down and grabbed the boy by the arm, roughly yanking him up from the chair.

  
  
“Jesus, Gil! I know how to walk.” Jerome looked back at his detective and smiled. “Sorry, bout that. Thanks for coming Gordon.” He flashed another smile before the large guard started carting him off.

 

Jim got a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the kid be carted away. He'd felt a bit angry when the large man handled Jerome so roughly, but he took a deep breath and willed it away. He took in his surroundings and tried not to focus on his disappointment to see the boy go.

 

There were cruddy tables all around him, and that was when he realised what was on the cruddy table in front of him-

 

Jerome forgot the bag Jim had brought him.

 

"Damn! Jerome, wait!" He called loudly, hoping the guard might give him five seconds in the doorway to find out what it was. He hurriedly snatched up the bag and went to where Jerome and the guard had both turned. "You forgot this."

 

Jerome’s eyes grew wide when he saw his detective holding out the bag. There was no way in Hell he was going back to his cell without it. The teen managed to squirm out of the larger man’s grip long enough to run back to Jim and grab hold of it.

  
  
As his fingers curled around the handle he felt the warm flesh of his detective’s hand. He couldn’t help himself. Jerome let go of the handle, opened his hand and slowly ran his fingers over Jim’s wrist all the way down to the tips of the older man’s fingers, curling them - locking Jim’s fingers with his, before swiping his thumb over the front of the detective’s - caressing it. A big smile on his face. Not a mischievous grin this time, but an actual, genuine smile.

 

The detective felt his heart skip a beat - the kid's smile was so real it shined. It was different from the usual, and made his stomach fill with warmth.

 

He took a deep breath and kept control of himself as he felt the bag be taken from him - bitting his tongue as the boy's thumb caressed him. Even when they were no longer touching, Jim could feel the sensation of the boy's warm, porcelain fingers linger on his skin. It made him want to shiver, or jump forward and take the teen's hand back...or both - and it was a hard urge to suppress.

 

He watched as Jerome was manhandled again and carted away, his throat sinking into his stomach the entire time.

 

He knew the maniac was intense. The teen knew what to say, he was getting into his head too easily... Jerome had manipulated him a bit to get him there, knowing how he'd react to key pieces of information-  The kid had managed to walk into the visiting room empty handed and walk out with a pair of the detective's own soiled boxers, a picture of him, and for what? Jim hadn't gotten anything out of it other than what...This sick, twisted thrill he got from doing this naughty thing? However...that wasn't even the worst part:

 

Jim felt as though he no longer minded at all that he was falling into the redhead's game. He wanted to surrender himself to it and let it sweep him away with its rapid tides.

 

The smile on the teen’s face remained as he was practically dragged out of the visiting room and into the hall. His eyes never left his detective. Well, that is until the door finally shut, but he watched - watched the area surrounding Jim grow smaller and smaller - the older man slowly disappearing, till the red door slammed shut with a loud bang. Even then the kid’s smile was still there.

  
  
He got to see, talk to, and touch his detective for the first time since he was apprehended. Nothing could wipe the smirk off his face, not even being roughly thrown back into his cell - his body hitting his cot so hard he dropped the bag, slid back off and hit the concrete floor with a thud.

  
  
“Valeska, what the fuck was that? I did this for your own good. I don’t know what the hell you got going on with that detective, and frankly, I don’t want to know... but you know you can  _ not _ touch the visitors even if reciprocated. Not to mention, you’re a pretty boy, Jerome. A  _ real _ pretty boy, locked away with a bunch of  _ animals _ . Just because there are women in here, doesn't mean terrible things don’t happen to cute young boys too. I’m sorry I got rough, but come  _ on _ . Gotta be smarter than that, kid."

  
  
Jerome looked up at the guard, anger in his eyes. He didn’t take too well to being manhandled or reprimanded. The fall to the floor knocked him back to reality. A part of him wanted to jump up and ram the guards face into the bars, but that would earn him a long stint in solitary. No phone calls, no visitors and no human contact at all. Not to mention, Gil’s intentions probably  _ were _ good. The guard had looked after him since he got there. He was the only one who was nice to Jerome.

  
  
“Don’t look at me that way, kid.” Gil stretched out his hand, pulling the teen back up to his feet. He patted the disheveled boy on the shoulder. “Take it easy now, huh?” He asked rhetorically, before walking out of the cell, closing the bars behind him.

  
  
Jerome stood up and dusted himself off, plopping back down on his cot - his hands over his face. He let out a sigh, and grabbed the bag next to his feet.

  
  
The boy held the picture in his hand, giving it another glance before reaching in for the boxer shorts. He unfolded them onto his lap, running his fingers over them.

  
  
He paused when he felt an inconsistency in the fabric…right on the crotch. The teen cocked his brow and touched the spot again, leaning closer in to get a better look. It felt like something had been spilled and then dried. 

  
  
It only took a few seconds for the redhead to put two and two together… odd stain right on the crotch… it was clear the detective took the term 'unwashed' to a whole nother level. 

  
  
“Oh ho ho, Detective Gordon…you are a naughty naughty boy.” The boy chuckled. 

  
  
That was it. Jerome knew right then and there, he had to get out of there at any cost. Admiring his detective from afar was just not going to cut it. Star crossed lovers was  _ not _ a game the teen had patience for.


	3. Chapter 3

The once seemingly moral Detective Jim Gordon had allowed himself to get shaken up by an eighteen year old maniac. Not just any maniac: Jerome Valeska.

 

He found he couldn't sleep without dreams of him, eat without having thoughts of how he had little food, or even close his eyes without his mind wandering, replaying him being manhandled. Jim's guts wrenched every time, all over again.

 

He had only had sleepless nights since his visit to Jerome.

 

This was only made worse by stress: By his demotion, and then by having to collect a debt for Penguin, which meant doing something for a bad man. It was all to regain his position on the force.

 

Were he any more self deprecating, he'd say he'd become no better than Jerome by using such means to regain his title.

 

He was early into the precinct two days after one of the now weekly visits to Jerome at Arkham, and he was met immediately with an angry-faced Commissioner Essen, who began telling him of the exact event Jim had been dreading most of all.

 

_Jerome Valeska, 18, accompanied by 4 additional convicted felons, had escaped Arkham Asylum. The group was assisted by two unknown gunmen._

 

Jim took a deep gulp, knowing what would be waiting for him at home. Essen had presented this information to him putting emphasis on Barbara Kean. All of his fellow cops gave him sympathetic looks, as they continued forming a strategy to try to take advantage of whatever plans Barbara had to make contact with Jim. They all assumed she would be the first... Unfortunately, Jim knew exactly which escapee would come to him first: The boy.

 

Harvey came up to their area while he was shuffling around his desk.

 

“Ya nervous about this Kean business?” The gruffer man asked.

 

Jim took a deep breath to mentally prepare himself before he turned around. He still hadn't decided whether or not he was going to tell anyone about Jerome's plans to visit. Not sure he was strong enough to resist the almost vicious pull between himself and the redhead. It was like gravity, inescapable.

 

He swallowed and turned, “I don't know how to feel about it. It is my ex-fiancee…” He forced words of Barbara past his tongue, some place, deep inside of him angry that he had to mention her at all. A part of him that was already hung up on someone else. Maybe the logical, good part of Jim wanted Harvey, or anyone, to save him from this crazy boy who was going to make him bad. But he wanted Jerome too much to say anything.

 

“That's understandable.”

 

Jim thanked god that Harvey dropped it there.

  
  
  


On his way through Gotham he felt as though everywhere he turned he would come up on Jerome's face.

 

Because he did.

 

Jerome was everywhere. His image seemed to be on every television screen. Those big, happy crazy eyes following him, and very step he took echoed…

 

_Jerome Valeska, Barbara Kean, Greenwood,_ their names swirled around after him, chasing.

 

He’d turn and he'd see those bright grinning teeth and that red hair he definitely didn't want to run his fingers through. He passed a showcase of televisions in a store window:

 

_Jerome Valeska, 18, was convicted of murdering his mother, Lila Valeska, he escaped Arkham Asylum this morning, along with…_

 

News story after news story, that grinning redheaded boy poked fun at him from the front page of every newspaper.

 

_Jerome Valeska escaped Arkham Asylumn early this morning. He had been arrested by Detective Jim Gordon after murdering his mother, Lila Valeska, with a…._

 

Jim looked around himself, turning on the Gotham sidewalk. The teenager was everywhere. Everywhere. So it didn't matter how long he took to get home, he couldn't savour the last moments of peace in his life. He was to be constantly reminded that what waited at home would finally make him a bad cop.

 

_Jerome Valeska, 18, convicted murderer, escaped._

 

Screamed a newspaper flapping in the wind at his feet.

 

He angrily tore the offending article from the ground and threw it into the nearest wastebin. Only when he turned back toward his intended path, there were just a million more. Someone had dropped a load of papers, and Jerome Valeska's face was smiling at him from between a million printed maniacs. He wondered what that horrible group of convicts would call themselves. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be good.

 

A nearby television in a store wailed at Jim: _Jerome Valeska, 18 escaped along with Barbara Kean, and several other convicts. They were assisted…_

 

Jim put his hands over his ears and hurried home.

  
  
  


Jerome placed his forehead on the cold, wet tile of the shower wall - his right arm resting on it, next to his face as the hot water rained down over him.

  
  
The water at Arkham only stayed hot for a minute or so, so every shower was rushed. This was the first time in a long time he’d gotten to enjoy one.

  
  
He’d bathed and rinsed a good ten minutes ago, but couldn’t bring himself to leave the warm, steamy embrace of the hot water.

  
  
The entire bathroom was thick with steam, and the scent of the Versace body wash he’d just used filled the air - it was quite delightful. Galavan had very good taste.

  
  
Theo Galavan was the man who had had Jerome and the other inmates broken out of Arkham. Now they were all staying with him and his sister Tabitha, in the man’s palace of a home. Well, at least it felt like a palace, especially compared to the trailer he lived in with Lila.

  
  
Jerome felt as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He had his freedom, a beautiful place to stay with two very rich people, and the best thing of all…. He could see his detective without a desk in between them and a big guard glaring at them the entire time.

  
  
Just the thought of the handsome blonde had the blood rushing straight to his groin. It was so tempting to reach down and rub one out to the thought of the dreamboat detective that was Jim Gordon, but he resisted. Nope, he wanted to save it for Jimmy. 

  
Jerome turned off the water and wrapped himself up in the plushest towel he’d ever felt. He walked into the room he and Greenwood were given to stay in and headed for the closet to pick out an outfit. It was full of all kinds of different things, but he and Galavan had much different tastes.

  
  
Luckily he’ll be able to make due without feeling like an idiot. He grabbed a leather jacket that he could wear a white tee under and a pair of black jeans.

  
  
After getting dressed, he grabbed a comb and some pomade to create his signature greaser hairstyle and gave himself a quick spritz of some designer cologne that he couldn’t pronounce the name of.

  
  
He’s not supposed to leave without being accompanied by either Galavan or Tabitha, but nobody can know he’s going to see detective Gordon, especially Barbara.

 

Oh, she’d shit and fall back in it, if she knew about them.

  
Jerome would have to sneak out. The firescape seemed like his best bet. He slipped open a window and in a matter of moments, he was walking the streets of Gotham, on his way to his detective’s apartment.

  
  
Once he reached the apartment building, getting in was a breeze. He slipped in when a guy carrying a stack of books up to his chin needed help with the door, then all he had to do was pick the lock, which of course took Jerome all of ten seconds. 

  
He re-locked the door and grabbed a soda from the fridge, before plopping down in a comfy looking recliner and flipping on the TV. He almost died of laughter when he saw his face all over the news.

  
  
“Well, well, well… Jimmy knows I’m out.” Jerome laughed. “He’ll be expecting me then.”

  
  
  


Jim took one last breath of fresh air, taking in one moment of peace as he stared up at his apartment building.

 

He told himself to stop being so stupidly nervous.

 

He really _did_ need a pep talk, and so he reminded himself that he could take anything Jerome dished up for him. Reminded himself that he could definitely return any out of control behaviour into something calm. If Jerome loved him as much as the boy liked to say he did, at least, he'd listen.

 

He pushed the doors of the building open, heading up to his floor on autopilot. Every action he carried out was carried out in a fog, his mind not truly there as he thought about the eighteen year old. Would Jerome really expect Jim to...take his virginity?

 

Would he expect Jim to do it... _tonight?_

 

He took a deep gulp once again as he prepared himself to face the redhead. Stepping out of the elevator and unlocking his door, he braced himself before actually opening it.

  
Jerome heard the lock turning and what happened next, truly surprised him… His stomach jumped up into his chest. Jerome Valeska was nervous. He wasn’t expecting this.   
  
Whenever he played this out in his head, he was cool and calm - seductive and aggressive…in charge. So much for that. The boy took a deep breath. He knew he couldn’t let his vulnerability show.

  
  
Jerome puts on his best poker face, preparing himself for confrontation with the man he’d been dreaming about being alone with for months.

  
  
“Hello Jimbo.” That deep, husky voice sounding completely devoid of any nervousness. “I’d say surprise, but we both know you’re not.”

 

Jim didn't even pause when he heard Jerome, instead pulling off his jacket and hanging it on a hook to his side. “Jerome.” He searched the room in front of him boldly, every trace of nervous trepidation gone as he found the redhead's eyes. “So I see you mean business.”

 

A wide grin spreads across the handsome ginger’s face, and his nervousness subsided just a tad. He wasn’t sure why, maybe the sound of his detective’s voice, or possibly the typical, dry Jim Gordon demeanor. Whatever it was had him feeling more like himself.

  
  
“Oh, Jimmy you know me too well.” He chuckled. He managed to get that sentence out without breaking his grin. He was always good at that. Part of his charm. 

  
Jerome stood up from the chair and sat his soda can down on the coffee table. He walked toward his detective, but didn’t get too close - not yet. The boy leaned on the bar, resting his face on his chin. “Jimbo..are you afraid to turn on the light? Perhaps then, this suddenly becomes real? You always were a sucker for denial.”

 

Jim felt a knot form in his stomach, before feeling a strong need to prove the maniac wrong. He reached out his arm to his left, searching the wall beside him blindly for the switch.

 

Within moments the room was filled with a golden yellow glow, lights in numerous places switching to life with a quiet electrical buzz.

 

“I'm not afraid of facing the truth.”

 

He said it, but inside he was really wondering if he was ready to openly admit, even to Jerome, exactly what he felt or desired. Was he ready to face the truth? He kept taking one step toward it, half a step back, getting closer. Almost there. “Not afraid of you, at least, Jerome.”

 

Jerome chuckled. “Oh, I know you’re not afraid of me. That’s one of the things I always liked about you, Jimbo. You’re brave and headstrong. I dig it. However… You _are_ afraid of what you’d do in a room alone with me. Deny it. I dare you.”

 

Jim paused. The pause itself saying everything that he knew the redhead would want to hear.

 

“Maybe.” He decided to finally say. He knew he would only sound _stupid_ if he tried to say he wasn't. Jerome knew. To be afraid to admit it to him, Jim realised, was just...ridiculously meaningless. To deny what he wanted to do would have no purpose. “Okay, I am.”

 

After the admission, he couldn't help but look over the teenager. Jerome's choices were clearly meant to impress, and it made a lump form in the older man's throat.

 

Jerome was surprised to hear the tough detective admit it so easily. He squinted at him, contemplating how to respond.

  
  
The boy took a few steps closer to the older blonde. “Would you believe me if I said, I’m a little scared of what you might do in a room alone with me, too?”

  
  
Jerome didn’t know why, but something about Jim made him vulnerable and comfortable with his vulnerability. In his fantasies he pictured the sex between them being rough and animalistic, but he felt himself starting to rethink it all.

  
  
Jim gave him a warm feeling in his stomach - a sentimental feeling. He wasn’t regretting letting his soft side show just a tad. If anyone would appreciate it, it would be Jim.

 

Jim's hard expression fell away at the boy's show of vulnerability. He couldn't help but release a little chuckle, “I'm alone with you in a room right now, won't we just have to wait and see what I'll do?” He asked, looking around the room he knew so well. “Of course the bed isn't in here...but what I'll do to you, we won’t necessarily need a bed for.” He grinned as he sent the comment toward the teenager.

 

Perhaps that was how he'd get the upper hand in the situation - overwhelm the virgin.

 

Jerome’s eyes grew wide and he gulped as his heart sank. He was not expecting Jim to be so forward. He pictured this the other way around - him being the aggressive one, having to seduce the detective. Not him dancing around it like a scared little virgin.

  
  
Of course if anyone was good about hiding their emotions, it was Jerome. He cocked a brow and crossed his arms. “Hmm… Well, what if I want my first time in a bed? Maybe, I want to be held and treated like a lady.” He said, smirking like the little shit that he was. He had to give the older a man a hard time. He can’t just melt into his arms like a cheesy romance novel. Even though that really didn’t sound so bad right now.

 

Jim didn't even lose a second, “I'll hold you, I'll give you anything you want, everything you've ever imagined. But that doesn't mean there won't be conditions. I hope you know that.” The older man paused, “There's a bed right through those doors. I could make love to you...Do you want to hear my conditions?”

 

He was having a thrill, the eighteen year old he wanted, so close that he could reach out and grab him if the want were to arise. He knew Jerome wanted this just as badly as he did, and wondered if he could get the younger man to drop his villainous ways.

 

Jerome smiled like a kid that just got his favorite toy for Christmas. That innocent wide eyed smile kids give, like the world is perfect and doesn’t have a care in the world. 

  
“Yes.” He said excitedly.

  
  
Whatever they were, he was certain none of them would be a deal breaker. Jim could tell him he had to swing a rope into the sky and bring down the moon and Jerome would’ve found a way.

 

“Think about the last crime you committed, Jerome,” The older man instructed, “However small it might have been - maybe you even committed a few on the way over here… Think really well about that last crime, because if you want this...It really is your _last_ crime. Not just the last one you've committed, the final one.”

 

Jerome’s heart sank and that smile quickly turned to a frown. The whole reason he’d been broken out of Arkham was to work for Galavan. He was gonna be somebody. Galavan promised.

  
  
He looks at Jim, looking so dreamy as always and he did what a lot of other horny teens before him did…he thought with the head in his pants instead of the one on his shoulders - _little Jerome_ if you might.

  
The boy smirked and moved in closer to his detective - toe to toe. “Okay.” He shrugged. And when he said that, he really did believe it. 

  
Jerome threw his arms around the handsome blonde - their chests pressed together, looking down at the shorter man. “I’ll have you know that you’re very lucky I decided to come over when I did. I just took a shower and I smell amazing and my hair is totally on point tonight.” He smirked.

 

Jim paused, going board-stiff in Jerome's arms for a moment. Something about the boy's nonchalant demeanor had struck a cord. The boy would accept giving up crime with _an okay and a shrug?_ For a moment the detective really wondered if the younger man meant what he was accepting, the entire thing seemed half hearted.

 

Then after a few moments of really _feeling_ the younger man against his body, his mind went blank - he melted into the hold and wrapped himself around the taller man too, rather than questioning him. It was strange, feeling such a strong attraction, it was unlike anything he'd ever felt before, clouding his mind and making him feel like judgement was out of his hands. He heard the boy's comment on his hair in a sort of daze, the cologne the boy was wearing practically wrapping around him too.

 

The skeptical look on Jim’s face, has Jerome worried for a second. Not that he blamed him though. Hell, even if Jerome had given a long compelling speech about how he was a changed man, Jim probably still wouldn’t be convinced.

 

The boy had never given his detective any reason to trust him. Those crocodile tears, after he killed his mother sure didn’t help his case. However, Jerome couldn’t help but feel like even if he did commit another crime, it wouldn’t be a deal breaker.

  
  
He believed deep down inside, the moral detective liked the thought of being with a bad boy like Jerome - the ole hero/villain romance. Although, he wasn’t going to use that as an excuse to go on crime sprees either. At that moment, he had every intention of keeping his word.

  
  
Jerome looked deeply at Jim, “Kiss me.”

 

Jim wished he could have resisted, but the maniacal boy had everything he wanted. The teenager was right, his hair, his clothes, his cologne - everything was pulling Jim right in. He slowly brought one arm up from where he'd wrapped them around Jerome's waist, gently guiding the redhead's chin and lips down to his own.

 

It wasn't like the kiss they'd shared outside the boy's trailer when the detective had thought the teenager was innocent. He kissed Jerome with a completely different passion, but one just as strong. The kiss was semi-slow, but had force behind it, Jim bringing them together firmly.

 

Jerome breathed in deep, enjoying the taste of his detective’s lips. Funny how even though it had been so long since they’d kissed and it was only one time, Jim tasted exactly how he remembered. He had forgotten how the older man tasted, but as soon as their lips touched, it all came flooding back.

  
Though he’d never say it out loud, Jerome felt so special - honored even. Jim Gordon was such a moral man, working in a corrupted precinct. He was a man that could not be bought. A man that stood for something and somehow Jerome had gotten under his skin.

  
  
Jim should have been the one person the boy could absolutely never have. As far as the teen was concerned, Jim was too good for him. Too moral and too level headed for the likes of him, but yet here they were, making out alone in Jim’s apartment and very close to doing a lot more than that. 

  
He held the back of his detective’s neck tightly, running his fingers through his blonde hair. The passion behind the older man’s kiss, helped the butterflies in his stomach to settle. He was still a little scared, but there really wasn’t anybody else he’d rather give his virginity to. He was ready.

 

Jim continued kissing the teenager, finding himself surprisingly greedy for Jerome's lips. He cupped the boy's face with one hand, while his other roamed and caressed the ginger's back, slowly getting closer to the waistline of the boy's pants. He didn't want to bring himself to his senses, not at all - Jerome Valeska was all he could sense at that moment, and it was wonderful.

 

He ran a few fingers gently under the material of the kid's jeans, enough to tickle the skin beneath. Wondering how sensitive the eighteen year old would be.

 

Jim’s fingertips tickled the boy and he couldn’t help but smile through the kiss and squirm just a tad. Not that he was complaining. Jim Gordon’s hand was in his pants. Although, not very far down them, but hell… Still a win.

  
  
Jerome felt a slight tingle in his groin. His arousal slowly growing. The feel of his detective’s sculpted chest, pressing against his, certainly wasn’t hurting.

  
  
He pulled his lips away for a moment - pressing his forehead against Jim’s - their noses almost touching. “I feel lucky to have caught you just after your shift. Your detective getup really gets me. Looking all sharp in your suit and tie, after a long day of fighting crime.” Jerome bit his lip, cocking his brow.

 

The teenager's compliment almost made the man’s mind totally become blank, but he forced himself to remember his plan: Try to get Jerome overwhelmed.

 

“Enough talk about my clothes, baby-” The nickname felt oddly perfect on his lips for Jerome, “I'd rather talk about yours - and how we can get them off of you as quickly as possible.” He slowly brought his other hand down, squeezing the ginger's bottom before caressing a bit lower, rubbing his inner-thigh lightly. He couldn't control himself anymore, the feeling of the boy's perfectly smooth and perky skin beneath his fingertips making him want to hurry.

 

He slowly trailed his fingers up, looking at the teenager for confirmation as he took hold of the hem of the kid's shirt.

 

Jerome felt his cock twitch when the older man called him baby. It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, but it was. Nobody had ever called him that before, or any other kind of pet name. It felt very satisfying, and as if that wasn’t enough, his detective was groping him and doing a damn good job, at that.

  
Jim’s warm touch made the boy quiver. His detective’s hand was dangerously close to his now throbbing cock - probably deliberately teasing him, and it was working. 

  
He hissed and buried his face in the crook of Jim’s neck, squeezing onto his shoulder tightly - soft moans slipping from his lips. 

  
When he felt those roaming fingers tugging at his shirt, the butterflies started up again. Not that the blonde dreamboat undressing him was a bad thing, but it was definitely intimidating. And here Jerome thought he’d be the cool composed one - the aggressor. Not hardly.

 

Jim felt so close to the boy, feeling Jerome's face buried against his neck, the kid's body held against his. He slowly brought the shirt over Jerome's shoulders, moving the teenager backward a second so that he could get it over his arms and head.

 

He looked down at the red head's newly exposed chest, licking his lips absent-mindedly before throwing the shirt far away. He reeled the eighteen year old back in and gave him yet another kiss, unable to resist himself. The ginger was everything he never even knew he wanted, and it was exhilarating and arousing. His cock was already almost completely hard, aching for the maniac in his arms.

 

“God, Jerome-” He thought about how the kid's pants were still perfectly in place, and how much of a downer that truly was.

 

Hearing the detective say his name like that, made Jerome grow harder. He hissed as that familiar tingle started in his groin - the blood rushing to his cock, bringing it to life.

  
He’d barely been touched, yet the top of his head was already tingling. He felt overwhelmed with arousal - from his head to his toes. It was hard to believe this was happening. He knew that it was, but he still couldn’t believe it.

  
  
Jerome reached down and palmed over his detective’s cock through his pants. He couldn’t help it. He wasn’t in control of himself anymore. Jim owned him.

  
  
A smirk crossed his lips, when he felt how big the bulge in the older man’s pants was - hardening in his hand. “Detective Gordon…” He whispered. “You’ve been keeping a big secret from me.”

 

Jim almost moaned when the kid palmed him through his pants, the feeling making him lose control momentarily. When Jerome called him detective, he wanted to push him down onto the couch, but knew not to. Instead he took a hold of the boy's arm, walking him toward the bedroom.

 

He felt extremely excited, the maniac he'd been lusting after so close to his. For once in his life he could describe himself as giddy. He could laugh at how much like a teenager he felt, himself, at that moment.

 

Jerome followed Jim down the hall, the butterflies in his stomach growing with every step closer. He wasn’t having second thoughts, not at all, but he was a lot more nervous than he ever thought he would be. He suddenly didn’t feel so tough.

  
  
The teen wanted it - more than anything, but he was worried his nerves would get the better of him, and he’d leave his detective disappointed. He couldn’t have that. He’d have to get with it and perform. He took a deep breath and shook his head, gathering himself. Deep down he knew once they’re in the moment it would be different and probably come naturally.

 

Once Jim led the teenager into the bedroom, he pressed him down onto the bed. He took a step back, removing his own shirt in only a few seconds.

 

He headed back to Jerome then, a hand slipping down to the buttons on the maniac’s pants. He looked the younger man in the eyes, “Is this alright?” He needed to know that the virgin hadn't changed his mind.

 

Jerome had to pick his jaw up off the floor when Jim pulled his shirt over his head. He looked even better than he’d expected. Now he couldn’t wait to see the rest.

  
  
He bit his lip and hissed as his detective's fingers tugged on the front of his pants. He thought his cock might drop off right there. “Yes. Go right ahead… You can do whatever you want to me.” The teen nodded his head fervently, but the nerves were apparent in his voice.   
  
His head was spinning with all the naughty things he wanted to do with the blonde dreamboat. Nervous or not, he was so ready for this.

 

Jim slowly began to tug the teenager's jeans off, the boxers he wore being revealed more and more as he continued. He loved the long legs he was exposing inch by inch, the porcelain skin glowing healthily beneath. Surprising how beautiful the boy still was after so much malnutrition and mistreatment.

 

He threw the boy's jeans into a random corner of his bedroom, before returning to the main goal. He began to pull the eighteen year old's boxers down, practically holding his breath in anticipation. When he exposed the teenager's hard cock, he almost stopped to appreciate it - but continued toward his goal. Soon the boxers joined the pants on the floor.

 

The slim body laid out before Jim was the most arousing image he'd ever seen in his life. For the first time, he'd exposed the maniac - had the boy exactly where he wanted him.

 

Jerome was now painfully hard. Watching his detective undress him, had to be the hottest thing he’d ever experienced. He was a little self conscious about being on display like that, but the approval on Jim’s face, put him at ease.

  
  
He’d never felt so vulnerable and he was surprised to realize he enjoyed it - being at the detective’s mercy, giving himself to him.

  
  
The blonde looked so damn good standing there in just his slacks. Jerome licked his lips in anticipation of finally getting to see what his detective really looked like under those clothes - if it was anything like he had imagined.

 

Jim stepped back, appreciating the sight of Jerome's bare body as he went ahead and began to remove his own pants.

 

He couldn't believe he was this close to sleeping with Jerome - the boy was as incredible looking as he'd imagined. He felt excited that they were finally here - in the moment that a part of him had always known they were heading toward. Knowing that he was about to have the maniac entirely at his mercy made him impatient.

 

He wasn't nervous at all as he hastily flung his pants and boxers toward Jerome's on the floor.

 

Jerome swallowed hard when Jim’s boxers came down. He had felt the detective’s size through his pants just moments ago, but the feeling of the bulge in his hand, didn’t quite do the older man justice. He’s not exactly sure what to do with the blonde.

  
  
He bit his lip, grinning and moved in closer planting his lips on his detective’s, kissing him with eager enthusiasm.

  
  
Their cocks touched when Jerome pressed his body into Jim’s, eliciting a muffled moan from the teen. His eager hand reached down and grabbed hold of his detective’s cock - warm and heavy in his hand. His knees weakened and he had to hold onto Jim’s shoulder to keep from falling over.

 

When Jerome grabbed his manhood, the older man released an audible moan - grabbing at the eighteen year old. “Oh, god, Jerome-” He slid his hands down the teenager's back before they came to rest on Jerome's ass.

 

He was impatient now - so close to Jerome that the kid filled all his senses. He held the boy and began to press one finger lower, against his entrance, before pausing and instead leaning over to get a tube from his night table. He coated his fingers with the lube before returning his fingers.

 

Hearing his detective moan his name, made Jerome literally shiver. As of that wasn’t enough to get him hot and bothered, Jim’s warm hand traveling down his backside certainly was. The boy pressed his forehead into the older man’s shoulder when he felt the finger touch his entrance. It felt more satisfying than he expected it to. Made his cock twitch.

  
  
A small whine left his lips when Jim retracted his hand, until he opened his eyes to see his detective slicking his fingers up. A small smirk appeared on his lips. He was ready.

  
  
He buried his face in the older man’s chest once more - savoring the others scent as the now wet finger slipped inside of him, eliciting a soft moan from the red head.

 

Jim wrapped his free arm around the ginger as his finger pressed up inside of him to the second knuckle. He slowly began to thrust against the redhead's insides, the finger entering completely.

 

He allowed the finger to move inside of the smaller man for a few moments before he removed it in order to add a second finger as well. He loosened Jerome up hastily, the two fingers arching away from one another. He could barely contain the feeling in his stomach - so close to the object of his affections.

 

Jerome’s fingers dug into his detective’s flesh when the finger slipped in further. It had a slight burn to it - a little intrusive but in a matter of seconds it was bliss - moving along his inner walls, grazing over his prostate. A part of his body that had never been stimulated.

  
  
When the second finger breached him, his nails dug in harder - a groan slipped from his lips. Uncomfortable for a moment, but just like the one finger intrusion, this became pleasant pretty quickly as well.

  
  
The idea of it was the hottest thing of all. Jim Gordon, Gotham’s golden boy was fist deep inside of him, prepping him for his cock. That thought alone made the teen’s head spin. He was about to lose his virginity and to his first crush, no less. How many people get to do that? Jerome felt he must have done something right at some point in his life to be given this gift.

 

Entering a third finger, Jim slowly began to move them all apart. He'd be lying if he said every moment waiting to press his cock inside of Jerome wasn't torture.

 

He could almost imagine how the scene must look - this maniacal teenager pressed against his chest. A part of Jim was done caring if this was something that he wasn't supposed to do. If anyone found out he'd go to jail for not saying anything about Jerome's whereabouts - but, fuck, this kid was far more important than that. He pulled out his fingers.

 

“You ready, Jerome?”

 

Jerome hisses as the third finger slides in. His tight ring of muscle accepts the intrusion much better than he thought it would. He shuts his eyes tightly when the fingers start to scissor inside of him. If just the detective’s fingers can work this kind of magic, he can only imagine what Jim’s cock feels like.

  
  
That thought sends a shiver down his spine. He wanted it. He wanted it so bad. He wasn’t even scared anymore, he just needed to feel Jim inside him. “Yes. Oh please, fuck me Jimmy.”

 

Jim looked down at Jerome, thinking that he'd never looked as gorgeous as when he was begging for his cock. The man took the lube and slicked himself up, ready. He nestled himself up between the teenager's legs, rubbing the kid's thigh with one hand as he pressed his cock to his entrance with the other one. He took a deep breath, mentally preparing.

 

Slowly he pressed the head of his cock forward, and it slowly slipped past the eighteen year old's tight ring of muscles.

 

Jerome’s head spun with so many thoughts. He was about to have sex - be made love to - penetrated - have another human being enter him with the most intimate of parts. It was the most exciting thing in the world and also the most terrifying.

  
  
The heat radiating off the older man lying on top of him was oddly comforting. He’d never had another warm body pressed so tightly with his own before. It felt good…great even. Not just physically, but emotionally too.

  
  
When the tip of his detective’s cock, breached his entrance, Jerome gasped out loud. He appreciated the hand on his thigh distracting him a bit from the burn of Jim’s cock, but he still felt it plenty, as of course he expected. He couldn’t expect any less from a cock that size.

  
  
However the pain did not discourage him. He’s been waiting for this for so long and he trusts Jim to take good care of him. “Keep going, Jimmy. I need it.” He whined.

 

Jim moaned when he heard Jerome telling him to continue, his cock almost half buried in the redhead. He planted a kiss on the ginger's neck, sucking as he pressed forward.

 

He couldn't believe this was happening - he was about to be buried balls deep in Jerome Valeska, a convicted criminal - a murderer.

 

Jim thrusted further in, fully sheathing himself inside the sociopath he was obsessed over. The teenager was so gorgeous his balls ached, and within moments he wanted to thrust like wild. Jim held back though, giving the virgin precious moments to adjust.

 

Jerome took a certain satisfaction in the detective’s gentleness. A part of him always thought maybe there was some resentment - resentment towards Jerome for seducing him - getting under his skin and causing him to bend his morals. He thought maybe the detective might take that resentment out on his ass. And the maniacal red head was kind of looking forward to it, but it wasn’t till just then that he realized how much better this was. How it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

  
  
The teen gasped and held onto his detective tightly when the other’s cock slid all the way in. It burned something awful, but Jerome knew it was only temporary. In a few moments he’d be a moaning whimpering mess and he couldn’t.

  
  
“Come on Jimbo. I’m okay.” He managed to pant out.

 

Jim slowly began to pull out of the red headed maniac, thrusting back in only a moment later - desperate to feel Jerome on every inch of his cock again. The older man wasn't anywhere close to a ball of nerves - the exact opposite of how he'd expected this moment to go…

 

To hell with it all. It didn't matter that he was a bad detective for this- Fuck, he was doing it and it was absolutely amazing.

 

He began to set a steady pace, holding onto the redhead tightly as he impaled his entrance again and again.

 

Jerome tried his best to relax. It was so much easier said than done. He loosened his leg’s grip around his detective’s waist, steadying his breath as the rock hard appendage climbs his inner walls.

  
  
Sure enough, the burn of the stretch started to fade - delightful tingle slowly taking its place with every stroke.

  
  
The boy’s eyes started to flutter when the older man’s hips picked up speed. His mind became clouded with the bittersweet pleasure Jim’s onslaught delivered. He knew he was moments away from no pain at all, and couldn’t wait to be pounded into the mattress, by the dreamy blonde.

  
  
A couple more thrusts from Jim and there it was…a pain free bliss as the older man’s cock bumped his prostate. His eyes closed and a content smile crossed his lips. “Oh god.” His words shaky and breathy. “It feels good now, Jimmy. Let me have it.”

 

Jim was immersed in so much pleasure he couldn't see straight, but definitely heard the boy beneath him begging him to pound him into the mattress.

 

He began to put power behind his thrusts, carefully but powerfully taking the teenager's virginity. He loved the feeling of the boy's body wrapped around him, the slide of his cock against the eighteen year old's willing hole. He paused, running one hand comfortingly against the kid's side, and wrapping the other tightly around him.

 

Jerome’s head fell back and his nails clung tightly to his detective’s back. Jim was letting him have it, just like he wanted - like he needed. His toes curled and obscenities poured from his mouth. He thought he sounded like one of those bimbos from a dirty movie (which he always thought sounded ridiculous), but he didn’t care.

  
  
He went from being this tough, smart ass little shit, to a moaning writhing mess and he was happy to do it. The teen wanted the detective to know how good he made him feel - how much he enjoyed his cock.

  
  
His mind was full of thoughts about how good his detective felt inside him - not just physically, but emotionally as well, but all he can manage to get out is loud groans of “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 

Jim continued his onslaught, hands feeling the redhead's skin as they travelled. This sex was unlike any he'd experienced, sensations and emotions intermingling and making his brain fuzzy with a previously unknown amount of pleasure.

 

Jim pressed on, fully enjoying the feeling of Jerome's body wrapped tightly around his cock. Somewhere in the back of his head he briefly entertained the thought that even if he wanted to stop thrusting against the maniac, he couldn't. He didn't want to stop, of course, anyway. The boy's face looked gorgeous even in the most let-loose moments of passion, and Jim felt that if he'd ever known love, this must be some part of it.

 

Jerome’s mouth fell open - his eyes squeezed shut. He still couldn’t believe this was really happening. The detective was balls deep inside him and he still couldn’t believe it.

  
  
When he first started flirting with Jim, after his true colors had been revealed to the detective, Jerome didn’t actually think he had a shot. He would never admit this out loud, but he always thought Jim was too good for him. Too good hearted to be involved with the likes of Jerome. Too good… _everything._

  
  
The red head opened his eyes and watched the beautiful blonde deflower him. The older man’s face during the thralls of passion was truly something to appreciate, and the teen did, indeed, appreciate it. He felt lucky to give his virginity to such a man. He felt unworthy.

  
  
It was truly a miracle that he was able to think about such things right then, with the waves of pleasure moving through his body. Every snap of Jim’s hips made him shudder. The boy almost doesn’t want to come...ever. That would mean his detective would have to stop - have to leave his body.

 

Jim takes a moment to fumble before finally, he stops neglecting Jerome's erection. He wraps a hand securely around the maniac’s cock and begins to stroke him in time to his thrusts. He wants the kid to enjoy this as much as Jim does - despite the teen's evilness wishes for Jerome to feel as much pleasure.

 

He kisses Jerome quiet for a moment, swallowing his moans eagerly. Then he moves down to his neck, sucking marks into his skin. He can't help feeling like he's marking territory, nipping and sucking until one of Jerome's entire shoulders is covered with pink and purple blooms.

 

Jim can't help suddenly feeling powerful. Having Jerome completely at his mercy like this - laid out before him… To know he was the only one to conquer his body - the only one to touch this gorgeous redhead in such an intimate way... It had him feeling like the most powerful man in Gotham.

 

Jerome’s hand wraps tightly around the back of Jim’s neck as the detective strokes him so nicely. The older man was giving him a tingle in his cock to match the tingle in rear. The two sensations at once were almost too much. The teen was unaware his body could feel such things - unaware his heart could either.

  
  
The kid hadn’t experienced physical affection in so long, he didn’t realize that it meant anything to him. He never thought it was important or something he would need, but the feeling of the warm body above him, pressing against his, and knowing who that warm body belonged to, made him realize he was wrong. It made him feel warm inside in a way he never had.

  
  
His first encounter with Jim was different. It was just lustful and occurred under false pretenses. Jim was under the impression, Jerome was just some poor sweet kid who lost his mother. But the idea that his detective was making love to him, being fully aware of who and what Jerome was, was kind of melting that heart of stone. He really didn’t want to ever not be under Jim.

 

Jim continued to move, moaning as his cock drug against the walls of Jerome's bottom. He couldn't think straight anymore, any thoughts he had fragmented and rushed. He couldn't concentrate on anything but the way the redheaded maniac felt beneath his body.

 

Every thrust of his hips brought him endless pleasure, and he wasn't sure he could last much longer. He continued to time his hand to his thrusts, pleasuring Jerome to the same rhythm.

 

Jerome pressed his forehead into his detective’s now sweaty chest. His eyes squinted shut and hands grasped tightly to the back of Jim’s shoulders. That’s all he could do. His mind was too clouded with pleasure, he didn’t even know existed.

  
  
The warmth pooling in his lower belly grew stronger with every thrust his detective delivered. He was dangling over the edge of his orgasm and it was a miracle, he’d lasted as long as he did.

  
  
Jim’s warm palm running up the kid’s cock, so perfectly was almost as good as the man’s cock bumping his prostate and filling him up over and over. Soft, elongated moans slipped from his lips every time his detective reentered him.

  
  
His heels dug into the blonde’s hips - loud, shaky moans pouring out of his mouth, as his prostate was hit once again, turning that warm pooling into a tingle - a tingle that spread quickly through his entire lower half, making his inner walls clench and his cock spasm and release into Jim’s fingers and onto his stomach.

 

Jim could feel the ginger's heels on his back, could feel the way the kid was clinging to him - it was the sexiest thing he'd ever experienced. He couldn't help the curl of his lips as he felt Jerome release onto his stomach.

 

He removed his hand gently from the maniac's cock, using it to support himself as he continued to slam against his entrance. It only took him a moment, the feeling of the kid's walls hugging him brought him pretty quickly to the edge.

 

He pressed himself deep into the eighteen year old, one arm wrapped tightly around him as he came. He could barely believe he was cumming inside of Jerome Valeska - and as he came down from one of the greatest pleasures he'd ever experienced, he couldn't help looking at the redhead differently.

 

Differently in a good way. Like the kid had just singlehandedly changed his world, which he in a way felt he pretty much had.

 

Jerome watched his detective closely. Watched his face contort in pleasure. Listened to his groans and took note of how his whole body shook when he came inside him. It was truly a thing of beauty - to watch somebody orgasm, because of the pleasure you’d brought them. A proud moment for the teen.

  
  
He put his hands to the sides of Jim’s face, stroking his temples with his thumbs. A sweeter display of affection than the maniacal ginger thought he was capable of. Then again he’d experienced quite a few things, he didn’t think were possible tonight.

  
  
The afterglow of his orgasm was almost as good as the orgasm itself. Especially emotionally. It had him feeling a certain way, he couldn’t put his finger on. Probably because it was so foreign to him. He liked this feeling. Whatever it was. Jerome was afraid to open his mouth for fear of declaring his love for the detective. It was best to keep quiet - not say something stupid in the heat of the moment. Jerome has a reputation to uphold. He must always keep that stiff upper lip.

 

Jim could barely muster the strength to pull himself from Jerome's body, and he collapsed beside him afterward, both arms flying tight around the maniac. He couldn't let himself get overly mushy, but still left a small kiss on the kid's forehead before settling against his mattress.

 

It was so incredibly surreal.

 

The fact that Jerome _was_ in his apartment, in his bedroom, lying beside him on his mattress _…_ knowing that they had just made love in his bed, that he'd cum inside of the redhead, got to feel him writhe and hear him whimper… The emotional feeling was _huge._

 

Jerome giggled to himself when Jim scooped him up in his arms. The whole thing was so strange and even a little bit awkward now. The criminal and the cop that brought him to justice had just slept together. That was something that only happens in people’s imaginations, not in real life. What do two former enemies say to one another after something like that?

  
  
The teen had an urge to yell out ‘I just had sex!’ With a big goofy smile to go along with it, but that would be the dorkiest thing ever. So he just chuckled to himself instead.

  
  
He propped himself up on his elbow and smirked at his detective, as if to say 'Detective Gordon. Look what you’ve done.’ However he felt taunting Jim was not the best idea. Maybe he’d laugh, or maybe the reality of what he’d done would hit him like a ton of bricks and the boy couldn’t handle seeing regret in those pretty blue eyes he admired so much.

  
  
The teen leaned in and wrapped his hand around the back of Jim’s neck, placing a kiss to his detective’s lips. He didn’t want to be overly affectionate - show too much vulnerability, but he just couldn’t help it. The kid just lost his virginity and to his first crush, no less. It’s not as easy to stay cold as he thought it would be. It was still better than saying mushy things.

 

A content look overtook Jim's face when the redhead kissed him, unable to contain his pleasure. Sitting there with his arms around Jerome, he couldn't help but feel like nothing was real. He thought - perhaps worried, that he would wake up and Jerome would be locked up in Arkham never having left it...worried his escape was a dream and their sex a fantasy.

 

He looked down at the the maniac's goofy face, loving every second, and studying every curve. He wanted to soak Jerome in even further, to ensure he'd never forget. He just took this beautiful eighteen year old's virginity - he couldn't believe that only moments before, Jerome's long porcelain legs were wrapped around his waist, and his beautiful full lips against his.

 

Jerome was perfect in every sense of the word, beside his attitude, Jim could agree. He settled himself gently back between those long gorgeous legs, and held him as he laid a kiss back on the ginger's mouth in return.

 

Jerome smiled through the kiss and squeezed Jim’s waist playfully with his legs. His hands ran gently up and down his detective’s back.

  
  
Jim felt so warm on top of him. He didn’t mind the extra weight one bit. As a matter of fact, he wanted to stay like this forever. He felt completely unworthy of the detective’s affections. He’d never say it out loud, _ever._ But deep down he knew it was true. A good man like Jim Gordon could have anyone. It was an honor and a privilege to give his virginity to such a man.

  
  
The boy felt like he should say something, but he was clueless as to what. What was he supposed to do? Thank the detective? No. That would sound ridiculous. The thought made him chuckle a bit.

 

Reality hit Jim like a ton of bricks, barely moments later.

 

He'd taken something sacred and done the unthinkable with Jerome Valeska - the very boy he'd brought to justice himself after the kid chopped up his mom. He'd slept with an eighteen year old _maniac_ \- a man young enough to be his son.

 

There was only one way he could think of possibly redeeming himself, and that was asking who on Earth was harbouring the redheaded twerp. He took a deep breath before looking Jerome in the eyes. “Jerome, I know you're probably tired now, but - I need you to tell me who helped you escape from Arkham.” The older man meant business, and it was clear in his voice.

 

Jerome sat up on his elbows, looking at his detective in confusion. He should have seen that coming. The red head knew this moment was too good to be true. Of course the moral detective would question his actions afterward.

  
  
He scooted in closer to the blonde and ran his fingers through his hair. “Jimmy… You know I can’t answer that. Hell, I wouldn’t be here right now, with you, if it weren’t for them.” The teen’s face grew long and his stomach sank. He knew this would not end well.

 

“And four other psychopaths wouldn't be free either, Jerome.” Jim shot back, unable to control his sudden guilt - wanting to hold the boy in front of him some more, but slapping his own hand instead and forcing himself to repent.

 

He continued to hold strong against the reluctant maniac, “My ex fiance Barbara is free because of them…” He added.

 

Jerome scrunched his face up into a scowl. He couldn’t believe this was happening. That was not how he pictured this going.

  
  
“ _Other_ psychopaths?” The redhead asked pointing out the fact that Jim just called him a psychopath, minutes after taking his virginity.

  
  
The teen got up from the bed and started gathering his clothes up in a huff. “So sorry for the inconvenience, detective Gordon.” He bit out, slipping his boxers back up.

  
  
Jerome, himself, was thrown off guard by how upset he was over that. He shouldn’t have been. He’d never been one to get his feelings hurt easily, or ever for that matter. But it was always different with Jim. The blonde detective was his weakness. The one person that made him feel things he didn’t know he could. The only opinion that mattered to him.

 

Jim's heart felt like it was melting into his stomach, but he couldn't help the sick feeling that he deserved the pain that he got from seeing Jerome getting dressed angrily. He could see good in Jerome all he wanted to, he knew, but in the eyes of the world and in the eyes of Gotham, neither of them deserved any better than this.

 

So he continued to slap down the urge to run after Jerome and stop him from leaving. But was quiet, unable to keep fighting verbally for a side he wasn't sure he wanted to be on - at least not the way his heart felt doing it.

  
Jerome watched the older man through squinted eyes. Apparently he was just going to sit there. No apology, no nothing.

  
  
The red head exhaled roughly through his nose, fastening his pants, before he pulled his shirt back on. He felt a strange feeling in his gut. Like someone had punched him in the stomach. An awful feeling and the teen did not like it, not one bit.

  
  
Something else started happening that made him feel strange. He felt a lump in his throat, like it was tightening, then warmth pooling in his eyes. No no no, it can’t be. Jerome Valeska does not cry. At least nothing other than crocodile tears, that is.

  
  
Oh, no. He can’t let Jim or anyone for that matter, see him cry.

  
  
Jerome huffed past Jim, looking down at the floor and stomped down the hallway, slamming the apartment door shut on his way out.

  
  
Nobody breaks Jerome Valeska’s heart. _Nobody_. If Jim was going to call him a psychopath, Jerome was sure as hell going to act like one.


End file.
